Consequences
by EffitsFranki
Summary: AU - In the hormone-driven frenzy of youth, Axel finds himself unable to cope with the consequences of his past.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclamer: I do not own the characters or anything in this that is Kingdom Hearts related. I DO own the storyline and a few OC characters that may have snuck in here.**

**Pairings: Akuroku, maybe some side pairings but I'm not sure yet.**

**Summary: In the hormone-driven frenzy of youth, Axel finds himself unable to cope with the consequences of his past.**

**Warnings: Rated M for a reason - a mess of alcohol use, sex, and profanity. Some dark, angsty shit here.**

**This chapter is short and mostly just cryptic as hell, but bear with me, it'll get better.**

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><p>Chapter 1: Nostalgia<p>

_The lights dimmed, the soft hum of the pale fluorescents tracing her skin melting away, darkness creeping over each feature and form. Her lips curved into a lithe smile just before the shadows overwhelmed my vision and left all my other senses on high alert. Her breath ghosted against my neck, the odor thick with the tang of cheap blackberry brandy and cheaper vodka. Her body was warm and heavy against me, each curve and contour molding to mine. My head spun and my eyes eased shut as her tongue ran a path up my neck and my hands found the soft, nostalgic dip in her back._

"_Will you remember me?" her voice hung in the air, heavy and dismal despite the smile I could feel against my throat._

I hope not.

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><p>Sometimes, in the early morning when the pounding in my head and the shakes in my hands wakes me up before I'd normally care to, I find that time can really stop. It's a peculiar experience, when your eyes are stuck on the stained, pale yellow of a dorm wall and you're not even sure if it's yours anymore. You know that the knick-knacks and stacks of books on the glazed, wooden desk are yours, but there's a disconnect you find in your every day surroundings that makes you almost apathetic. It could be the hangover, it could be those pills you keep forgetting to take, it could be the flashbacks that plague the once safe haven of sleep, or maybe it's just too many late nights that broke into early mornings. Nothing really feels familiar anymore besides that memory of an arched back and soft skin and cheap liquor. The past suddenly feels more like present and you find that empty cage some call a chest rattling. The sun leaking past the windows reminds you more of locks of hair you used to knot your fingers through and the distant resonance of birds chirping sounds more like a laugh you used to catch. It becomes so hard to breathe just remembering the smell of daffodils and chamomile tea you want to fill your lungs up with the closest inhalant you can find just to subdue the memory.<p>

When time seems to start back up, it's usually caused by a familiar shake in the bed springs or the shifting of sheets either from above you or beside you.

I couldn't really say which it was this particular morning until the familiar grumble sounded from the bed above me followed by a string of fatigued and muffled profanities. Deciding to check, I felt beside me to find the space void of a random, nameless body. I let out a breath – of frustration or relief I'm not sure – before heaving myself up off of the creaking, uncomfortable mattress and stumbling around the small dorm to find my sandals and cigarettes. The shaking in my hands refused to cease as they fumbled through a mass of clothes on the floor, finally grasping the light box and lighter and lifting them out. Not even bothering to cover my upper body with a shirt, I walked out of the dorm, leaving my bunkmate to grumble to himself about something involving castrating the creator of morning classes and alcoholic roommates.

My long legs carried me down the hallway covered with doors with names scribbled on whiteboards and even more penises scrawled around them. I found the correct door to the roof almost by muscle memory, lightly jogging up the steps in desperation. I was pulling out a cigarette when I opened the outside door and brought it to my lips the second the sharp click behind me sounded. I attempted to steady my hands enough to work the lighter, but my impatience wasn't helping and it took me several frustrating minutes before the tobacco laced carcinogen was lit and I was able to let out a relieved, smoke-filled breath. I looked around the roof, noticing a few other students that were leaning against the fence that coiled around the edge of the roof, also smoking and looking just as hungover as I was. I nodded to a few familiar faces before taking my respective corner of the fence. I sunk down, leaning my back against the criss-crossing metal and let my long legs sprawl out ahead of me. A particularly cold rush of air hit me from the side and I found myself shivering.

I saw the door open again, revealing a familiar, unnatural head of long, silver hair, the individual still grumbling to himself as he stalked towards me. I think it had something to do with vomit stains and kitten litter now, but I wasn't entirely able to pick up on his early morning language yet. He plopped down next to me, snatching the box and lighter from me. I was going to protest – considering my recent bank statement and the price of cigarettes rising – but was halted by the familiar glare he sent me that wordlessly stated "You owe me." What I owed him, I wasn't sure, but most Monday mornings I owed him something and he usually settled with a cigarette.

I let out a sigh, ran my fingers through the crimson spikes that clung to my skull, and looked away as he pulled out a stick, placed it between his lips and lit it before throwing both back in my lap.

"What did I do this time?" I asked after a few moments of us both silently nursing our separate cigarettes.

"Same old, really," he said, though a bit more relaxed, his tone carried a harsh lashing I couldn't help but wince a bit from. "Vomited on my favorite shirt, and then spent the night with your face in the toilet before finally passing out on the bathroom floor at about 4am. I carried you into your bed and you're fucking heavy for someone so skinny, man."

"So you've told me," I sighed, watching with mild disinterest at the cloud of smoke pouring from my lips. "Riku, I'm so-"

"Don't do that, Axel, we've been over this."

After our first year as roommates – and I had developed a particularly close, weekend relationship with the bottle and our toilet seat – he had told me the apologies got old. It might not be every morning I have something to apologize for, but he said it had started to sound hollow, even the one time that the drunken haze had left my eyes in the form of tears and the retching noises were accompanied by choked sobs. But neither one of us really wanted to think about that night ever again.

The three syllables had become a knee-jerk reaction for me, however, and he had to remind me that it fell on deaf ears far too often for either of our comfort. Needless to say, the rest of our morning smoking session passed by in silence besides the occasional cough or when the whisper of a conversation made its way across the roof. Once we'd both finished, we returned to our dorm room, attempting to keep a sense of normalcy for both of our sanities.

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><p><em>The stars poked through the dark sheet in varying intensities, leaving the field in a soft, cool glow. The moon hung peacefully in the corner of the sky, full and boasting with reflective light. The fingers laced with mine gave a gentle squeeze as I blew a cloud of smoke into the clear air above me. The grass beneath me was beginning to warm under the combined body heat and my clothes were growing damp from the dew that had coated the foliage prior to our disturbance.<em>

"_What are you thinking about?" a soft voice leaked into my senses, the consonants sharp and the vowels breathy. I felt her gaze on my face but I didn't return it, couldn't find it in me to meet the familiar deep blue that drowned me in emotions I didn't have names for anymore._

"_Nothing."_

"_It must be something."_

"_It isn't."_

"_Why won't you look at me?"_

Because I don't love you anymore.

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><p>The last suffocating grasp of summer was hanging in the air, a desperate, heavy texture filling my lungs. The early morning had quickly drifted into the early afternoon and the sun blazed overhead, the pavement simmering beneath my shoes. To keep back my blatant annoyance, I had to remind myself that October was fast approaching and so were the last of frizzy hair days and awkward sweat-stains. My shirt clung to my skin, becoming increasingly uncomfortable as I hastily made my way to the air conditioned haven that was my sociology class. My fingers curled around the metallic handle, jerking the door open to be greeted with the artificial, cool air. A contented sigh built in my chest as I closed the door behind me and found my seat near the back of the lecture hall. I placed my notebook and a pen on the excuse for a desk attached to my chair before sitting and stuffing my bag beneath my seat. My eyes darted to the clock on the far wall and I realized with a slight shock that I was early. On a Monday. With a headache and shaking hands.<p>

Considering my relationship with alcohol and the weekend, it was a rarity that I made it to my Monday class on time, even if it began at 12:15. The stares that followed me as I had entered the room verified my fellow classmate's shared surprise. I let out the sigh I had been unknowingly holding in my chest and flipped open to a clean notebook page, my pen spinning between two of my fingers.

"Is somebody sitting here?" a voice sounded next to me, the sound clear and soft. I looked over, keeping my face composed as a sudden stirring in my stomach began once my gaze found the body beside me. His hand was gripping the back of the chair to the right of me, a shy, curious look dashing across his cerulean eyes. The nauseous feeling in my stomach rose, keeping the image of a similar pair of eyes from popping into my head. My silence dragged on as I attempted to open my mouth, my gaze not leaving his. When I noticed the tension rising in the air between us, I fought back the creeping sense of nostalgia and gave my head a slight shake.

"No, it's yours," I replied, allowing the confidence to build into my chest again, my stomach acids settling. He sent me a soft smile that hit me point blank in the sternum and I felt my breathing halt for a moment. My gaze stayed attached to his soft features and giant blue eyes that had shifted towards the seat, trying to sort out the strange feelings roaring up inside of me.

"Thanks." He slipped around the chair before settling in the seat, a notebook landing on the small surface in front of him. The smile faded from his features as quickly as it appeared and I found myself missing it.

_It's just because he looks like her._

"Do I know you?" The words left my mouth before I could decipher the aching that had begun beneath my ribs. His eyes returned to mine.

"Uh... I don't think so," he said, his eyes wide and bright with curiosity and surprise, his features cautious. A smirk pulled at the corners of his soft, pink lips, drawing my gaze momentarily away from his eyes. "I think I'd remember that hair." My eyes found one of the - according to the box - "Luscious Raspberry" strands that had spilled passed my neck. I grabbed it with a sly smile before flipping it over my shoulder to join the rest of the hair-product-smothered spikes.

"Yeah, this mess is pretty unforgettable." His smirk softened a bit and he let out a breathy laugh. "I haven't seen you in this class before, though" He nodded once, leaning back in his chair a bit, his pen tapping on a blank notebook page in front of him.

"I just switched my schedule around a little," he said. "They messed up a few of my classes originally." I nodded in response, my eyes finding my own blank notebook page.

"Well, welcome to Sociology 102. I'm Axel, by the way," I said, reaching a hand out over the edge of the excuse for a desk. He grasped my hand cautiously, another friendly smile curling at his lips.

"I'm Roxas. Nice to meet you, Axel." Something about the way he said my name, and the way the golden spikes shifted across his forehead, made my fingers suddenly reluctant to loosen around the boy's hand. He pulled his hand away gently, my fingers ghosting through the air to return to my side.

_It's just because he looks like her._

My lips parted a bit, my thoughts trying to focus on a topic, anything to keep the attention of Roxas towards me, but the door bursting open and our professor announcing his presence cut off my train of thought. We both turned to the front of the lecture hall and I was left to address the welling in my chest and the cold, artificial air around me suddenly feeling heavier.

_It's just because he looks like her._

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><p><strong>Leave some reviews if you liked it or what I can improve on. I'm not sure about this one, I'll be honest. I've been out of the writing loop for years, only doing little drabbles here and there. But the urge to write this has been on my mind for a while so I had to at least try to put it up and see what people thought.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclamer: I do not own the characters or anything in this that is Kingdom Hearts related. I DO own the storyline and a few OC characters that may have snuck in here.**

**Warnings: Rated M for a reason - a mess of alcohol use, sex, and profanity. Some dark, angsty shit here.**

**I suck at starting stories and having characters get to know each other, so it probably won't get that good until the next few chapters. You've been warned.**

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><p>Chapter 2: Second Impressions<p>

If you asked me to tell you anything my professor said that day in my Sociology 102 class, I could not have even given you a general overview of anything that was covered. To say I was distracted by the lithe, soft-featured blonde beside me would be the most ridiculous understatement imaginable. I could tell you how many times Roxas bit the end of his pen –_ fourteen_ – and I could tell you how many pages of notes he took – _three _– but anything the teacher said during the span of an hour and a half was totally lost to me. There were several terms scrawled on the blackboard at the front of the room, but I was more interested in the way Roxas was running a hand through those strands of gold as he copied them down to do the same. It did register when the teacher dismissed the class, but that was only because I noticed that Roxas was packing up.

_It's just because he-_

_Okay, stop, I get it._

As I followed the rest of my classmates out the door, I attempted to come up with a brilliant excuse for speaking with the boy who was walking several feet ahead of me with a certain swing to his hips I couldn't quite ignore.

Just when I was going to open my mouth and catch up to the blonde, a small, powerful fist hit me directly in the nose. I heard a sickening crack as I fell backwards, my head spinning in an attempt to make sense of what exactly had just occurred. I heard a string of profanities grumble their way past my lips, felt my own hands move to cover my nose as a tangy liquid began to seep from my nostrils, but there was a disconnect in the actions as my mind attempted to reel back into my skull. My eyes found the figure the fist was attached to and I found my wits pulled back in place with an almost audible snap.

"That's for being an asshole," the figure said.

_Maybe you just have a thing for blondes._ Somehow, my thoughts decided to have a sense of humor.

"Nice to see you too, Larxene," I said, wiping my nose fruitlessly as the blood continued to dribble freely. "Didn't think I'd ever be on the receiving end of your right hook, I'll be honest."

"You shoulda figured that when you decided to fuck my brother," she said, her lips curled into a terrifying, satisfied smirk. "Payback's a bitch, hun." And with that, she turned on her heel and strode away, the crowd of people I hadn't noticed until then parting to let her through. Eyes were now on me as the horde dispersed, whispers lingering in the tense atmosphere around me. I shut my eyes as the pain made its way into my senses, an intense aching surrounding the bridge of my nose. I heaved myself into a sitting position, my body slumping forward a bit.

"You okay?"

At first, I could have sworn that I was hallucinating when I heard that voice coming from somewhere beside me, but when I opened my eyes and found the overwhelming blue staring back at me, I suddenly wanted to thank Larxene for breaking my nose.

"Uh, I think my nose is broken," I said, my fingers moving to touch the source of the pain. A hand suddenly caught mine and pulled it away, the soft, golden hair moving closer.

"Don't touch it," Roxas scolded, his other hand moving to my jaw. Being too dumbfounded by the sudden physical contact, I didn't notice that when he pulled my face gently to look at his, he was inspecting my nose, not looking to indulge the fantasies playing in my mind since the moment he spoke. I watched him curiously, my heart rate speeding up a bit as his hand let go of mine and his fingers ghosted over the bridge of my nose, which I noticed had begun to swell.

"We should probably get you to the nurse," he concluded, pulling away from me to collect his notebook he'd stored on the linoleum tiles beneath us and stand. He offered his free hand to me after I retrieved my bag, which had abandoned my arm out of – what I assumed – fear, and helped me pull myself up. The room spun a bit and I found the blonde's hand on my shoulder in an attempt to steady me.

_He's short._

_So was she._

_This is getting old, already._

As my sense of equilibrium returned to me, Roxas led me through the building towards the front office that housed the majority of the college's authority figures and the school's health staff. I wasn't sure if it was the proximity to the boy or if the right hook to the nose had jumbled my head around a bit too much, but I couldn't really form any cohesive thoughts as we walked silently through the halls. I noticed that Roxas was fidgeting, like he was nervous, but, hell, I just met the kid and this could be a normal thing for him.

He opened the door for me, gesturing me to go inside, and I couldn't quite hold back the slight chortle that escaped my crimson covered lips.

"Dear me, chivalry lives," I crooned, eliciting a roll of his eyes and a shove at my back.

"Don't make me give you a black eye to match," he said, his voice unable to hide the smile creeping at the corners of his mouth.

"Oh, God, Axel," a voice said as I turned to find the nurse's assistant scuttle over to me. She moved my hand that had wandered to my nose at some point on the journey and gave me her typical look of disapproval that had the same affect on me that my mother's had. "Walk into a door again?" My eyes became incredibly interested in the propaganda posters on the wall as her stare burned into me.

"Yeah, it was giving me a bad look," I responded, attempting to ignore the sparks of pain shooting through my face as she poked and prodded my nose with purposeful, unsympathetic fingers.

This wasn't my first trip to the college health office. In fact, the nurse's assistant, Aerith, had become my – self-proclaimed – college mom. She made a point to chastise me whenever I came in with a booboo caused by my dickheaded, self-destructive tendencies and she knew that whenever I 'took a door to the face' or 'accidentally fell on a pile of books that happened to create these circular bruises on my stomach,' she knew that I was covering for whoever I'd managed to piss off. Though this hadn't happened _that _often – there were lot more of the 'I didn't know the punch was that strong' visits that Riku usually accompanied me to – she still gave me her typical hands on hips, lips curved downward, eyebrows furrowed, 'Axel-stop-being-such-a-god-damn-idiot' pose. And I, as per usual, refused to meet her gaze, instead, taking the time to notice how confused the cute, blonde boy looked as he watched our brief exchange.

Finally finished with giving me her disapproval-soaked glare, she grabbed my clean hand and dragged me to the back of the office where the medical supplies and a few recovery beds were stationed. I sat on one of the beds, feeling the familiar crumple of paper beneath me and took the towel she offered me to clean my bloodied hand up. Roxas stood at the foot of the bed, a hand in his pocket and the other clutching his notebook at this side. The awkward energy that seeped from him made me feel oddly guilty.

"Thanks for walking me here," I said as Aerith busied herself with a package of gauze and rubbing alcohol. "But, uh, you don't have to stay.. I don't want to hold you up or anything."

"No, it's okay, my next class isn't till tonight," he said, seemingly snapped out of a distracted gaze. "Don't really have anything better to do." Aerith returned before I had the chance to respond, wordlessly telling me to shut up as she grabbed my chin harshly and began to wipe away the blood around my nose. The overwhelming smell of rubbing alcohol filled my senses and I started coughing, unsure if the sudden nausea was caused by the peroxide or that the smell reminded me of cheap vodka. _Cheap blackberry brandy and cheaper vodka._

I pushed back the memory threatening to rise back up, focusing instead on how Roxas had sat down beside me and was holding something for Aerith as she suddenly shoved an icepack in my face. I grabbed it quickly, putting it up to my nose and subduing the shiver that threatened to shoot down my spine.

"Keep that on for about five minutes and we'll check it again to see if the swelling went down enough to tell if it's broken," she said, her voice soft, her features drawn down, now more in worry than disappointment. "I'd read you the riot act, but since you've got a friend with you, I'll spare you. I have to go do some work, but I'll be back in five." And with one final glance at me, she stalked back into the front of the office, leaving me alone with the boy beside me, holding a package of cotton balls and peroxide. I looked over at him and the items in his hands, one of my eyebrows raising.

"In case the bleeding starts again," he said, raising the bag and bottle with an awkward smile, before placing them between us on the deli-paper wrapping. I gave a nod, shifting the icepack a bit on my nose for comfort. I looked down at my shirt to find several drops of blood splattered down the front. I groaned quietly, closing my eyes in frustration.

"I love this shirt," I whined, releasing the section of it I was gripping, allowing it to messily re-cling to my skin. "This is gonna be such a bitch to get out." Roxas itched the back of his head and nodded, a sympathetic look coming to his face. I watched him curiously as his eyes flitted around the room, his bottom lip getting caught between his teeth. _He's definitely nervous._ His eyes landed on me, his lip slipping out from the grip of his pearly-whites and I rose an eyebrow, hoping he took the gesture as prompting to speak.

"Why'd she punched you?" he asked suddenly, his eyes watching mine carefully, his demeanor suddenly bold and confident.

"Uh, did you miss when she explained that?" I asked, squinting an eye in a mock-wince. "I fucked her brother."

"Literally or figuratively?" I stared at him, his expression an innocent curiosity that I couldn't help but want to indulge.

"Literally. I had sex with him." He nodded, his eyes shifting to the floor, a bit of confusion furrowing between his eyebrows.

"I don't really see why that got you punched in the face," he said, his eyes returning to mine. "Unless you raped him or something."

"No, no, he was willing, trust me." I turned to face him , pulling my knee up over the bed and hooking my foot under my other thigh. "See, Larxene is really over protective of her brother Demyx. They're both good friends of mine from High School, actually." Roxas raised his eyebrows at this. "Seriously. Anyways, Larxene warned me a long time ago that if Demyx ever became a notch on my bedpost, she'd break my nose, even if he was the one to initiate it. So, I guess I should have seen this coming." I held up the icepack briefly with a guilty smile before placing it back to my nose with a wince.

"That was pretty stupid of you, then," he said bluntly, causing one of my eyebrows to rise in curiousity. He stared back at me, mirroring my expression with an air of challenge to it.

"Yeah, I'm not too smart-"

"HE'S AN IDIOT!" Aerith called back from the front.

"STOP EAVESDROPPING, _MOM_."

"DON'T USE THAT TONE WITH ME."

I shook my head, letting out a sigh as I let myself drop back onto the bed, my hair spilling on either side of the pillow.

"Not exactly a good first impression," I mumbled, my eyes trained on the odd pattern on the ceiling. I felt Roxas shift near the edge of the bed, leaning his back against the wall by one side.

"_Technically_, it's your second," he said, a friendly tone beneath his words. I picked my head up to look at him. His eyes were idly watching his hands as he played with what looked like a cell phone, his legs crossed beneath him. He noticed my movement and looked back at me, offering me a soft smile, causing the aching between my ribs to start up again.

"Guess I'll have to make the third a winner, huh," I drawled, my customary smirk creeping at one corner of my lips. He let out a light laugh, his eyes returning to the small, electronic device turning in his fingers.

"Guess so."

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><p><em>She took a long swig from the bottle clutched between her hands, the tint to her cheeks intensifying with each audible gulp. A small drop fell from the corner of her mouth just before she detached the bottle from her lips, her head bobbing forward heavily. She messily wiped away the liquid, her hazy gaze finding my own. I snatched her hand quickly, finding the thick, brown-tinted liquid smeared on her hand and running my tongue along it. The sweet taste of blackberry flavoring mingled with the sharp tang of hard liquor, the lingering of her perfume just beneath my senses.<em>

"_How does it taste?" she said, her voice lower, without any sharp consonants and soft vowels; just drunken syllables mixing into each other._

"_I still prefer vodka." Her hand fell from mine, her soft lips curling upward._

"_That's just because it drowns you faster, Axel."_

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><p><strong>Chapter 2, done. Let me know what you think. It's still really vague right now, but I have it all outlined and things will start to make sense soonish.<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclamer: I do not own the characters or anything in this that is Kingdom Hearts related. I DO own the storyline and a few OC characters that may have snuck in here.**

**Warnings: Rated M for a reason - a mess of alcohol use, sex, and profanity. Some dark, angsty shit here.**

**Things are starting to make a bit more sense.. I think. I think this fic is gonna be kind of long. According to the outline I have planned, I still have a lot to get through.**

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><p>Chapter 3: Connections<p>

There's something about struggling with a mental disorder keeping you apathetic at best that makes you want to cling to the smallest of things that make you feel good. The second something causes your mood to lift passed indifferent and towards 'sort of, maybe a little' content, you find yourself clinging to the subject, claws dug in and all. This reasoning is the only excuse I can give for why I didn't make Roxas leave while Aerith bandaged up my nose and continued to mumble to herself about my idiotic tendencies. I didn't ask him to leave after she ordered me to stay for at least another fifteen minutes to 'recover.' I didn't ask him to leave after we'd been sitting on that recovery bed for over an hour, having broken into the saltines and juice boxes, just talking.

Connecting with other human beings was a task I could do artificially with ease. Making real connections, real friendships, however, was a task that I ran from. My insides were volatile – soaked in gin, whiskey, and cigarettes – and my past was a constant ghost appearing one step ahead of me; not exactly prime incubation temperature for growing friendships and relationships. Sitting in that health office with the boy that reminded me of the bone-shattered skeleton on my closet floor was causing something to well up inside of me with each passing moment. The need to sprout a new root within him was suffocating and I hated how I already felt an attachment to Roxas. I could lie and say it was because he was damn attractive, but at this point, the guilt that was rebounding from the past halted me from even thinking of him that way. When both of us realized how long we'd stayed, I wanted so badly to grab him and make him follow me anywhere and everywhere. The logical part of my muddled brain told me how wrong all this was and how the nostalgia creeping in pit of my stomach was just making me sentimental.

"I'll see you in Sociology on Wednesday, I guess," he said as we both walked out of the cold building and into the thick humidity that clung to the air outside. I nodded, giving him a small smile and tap to the side of his arm. "And don't go screwing crazy chick's siblings, okay?"

To that, I laughed.

"I'll do my best," I replied, my feet staying in place with a lingering want to follow as he began to walk away.

I watched him wave and say a farewell before heading down the opposite end of the street. The further he got, the tenser I felt and a sense of claustrophobia set in. I guess this was always how I felt, but when you taste a bit of contentment, going back to the harsh reality of alcoholism and major depressive disorder feels even harsher than it once had. I turned on my heel, walking away from my stagnant stance, and decided I needed a cigarette and drink.

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><p>"<em>Fuck you, Axel."<em>

_I'd heard a few times that words could sting, but something about the venom in my sister's quivering voice made me feel more like she was burning me alive. _

"_You're such a fucking asshole," she continued, her eyes red with dark circles looming below them, a few tears still running freely down her face. I gathered this through my peripheral vision, unable to directly meet her gaze. Even if I'd known it was the last time I'd have the chance to see them for several years, I could not have brought myself to look her in the eyes. "Why, Axel? Was she such a good lay that you decided to fuck her up more than she needed? You fucking knew she was recovering. You fucking knew she could have gotten better if you hadn't led her on. Now, she's… she's-"_

"_I fucking know, Rex, stop. What did you want me to do? It's not like I did this on purpose. I didn't know she stopped taking her meds. I didn't know she was thinking about that again."_

"_Shut the fuck up, Axel. Don't even try to talk. I can't look at you right now. I can't speak to you right now." And with that, my sister turned towards the door, walking with such force in her steps, I was surprised she didn't put a hole in the floorboards. I didn't know at the time that the view of her back retreating from me, her long hair spilling in a tangled frenzy, was the last I'd see of her for three years. To be honest, I didn't blame her. I didn't think she was in the wrong to blame me. I didn't think she was being irrational. I was still too sick to my stomach, too traumatized, to see anything rational about the situation._

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><p>"Three-thirty in the afternoon is a little early for Rum, Ax. Even for you."<p>

I stared back at my roommate with a sardonic smile, attempting to ignore the amused quirk to his lips.

"It's just one drink," I replied, sipping at the rum and coke I'd concocted.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, walking over to his own desk against the wall perpendicular to mine. "What happened?" I looked over at him before crossing my eyes to stare at the gauze he was gesturing to on the – as Aerith put it – 'lucky to not be broke' bridge of my nose. I let out a sheepish sigh, turning back to my desk with a cringe.

"Larxene." I took another, larger sip of my drink as Riku burst into a fit of spiteful laughter.

"That's beautiful. The only thing that sucks is that I missed it." He settled at his own desk, turning his chair to be facing towards me.

"Yeah, okay, shut up."

"Hey, she warned you, I warned you, even fucking Marluxia warned you. But you went and did it anyways-"

"He came on to me!" I immediately wished I could pull those words back into my mouth as I noticed that awful, creeping grin on his face.

"That's an awful word choice, there, Ax."

"Fuck you."

"Stop offering yourself to me, you know we're strictly platonic."

I groaned loudly, letting my head dramatically fall to the desk and ignoring the continued laughter from my bunkmate. I picked up my head only to take another large gulp, before turning to Riku again, who was slowly calming down and opening a text book and notebook.

"How's Sora?" I asked in a lazy attempt to divert him from the pleasure he procured from making me even mildly more miserable.

"He's good, just been busy," he replied, the slightest hint of a smile on his voice that caused a strange bite of jealousy in the back of my chest.

Riku had a boyfriend he'd been steadily dating for the entirety of our three years in college and beyond. I was almost certain they'd had a thing going since they were still toddlers playing in the sand on the horribly perfect island they grew up on. Sora had come up several times for visits and I always got kicked out of our dorm for hours at a time. The first time I saw them together was the first time I felt that familiar pang of envy that came with seeing two people so disgustingly happy with one another that it threatens to change your gloomy perspective on human relationships. Riku always changed when Sora came around. He smiled more, laughed easier, and there was a brightness in his eyes that I only recognized in myself when I stared at the bottle of rum in my closet. I had a rather bleak view on love and when I saw how happy Riku was, it made me yearn for something I'd sworn off of three years prior.

"He might come visit in a week or so," Riku announced, pulling me away from the thoughts putting a weird taste in my mouth. I noticed he had turned to me, his hand casually hung over the back of his chair. "Hope you don't mind."

"I never do," I said, failing to keep the bitterness from my voice. Riku frowned, just like he always did when he noticed that little bite to my words or the larger gulps taken from my drink. I hated to admit how well my roommate knew me, hated the moments when he'd frown at things no one else noticed or how he'd look worried when everyone else thought I was fine. In fact, that ability to see past the perfect mask I'd built up over the years, with immense detail, basically terrified me. I felt too vulnerable around Riku for my own comfort and maybe that's why I turned away from him in that moment, distracting myself with the pile of books on the corner of my desk.

"You take your pills today?" My head slowly turned to stare at him and I found myself smacked in the face by the concern written all over his features. I looked away with an awful mixture of guilt and anger bubbling up inside of me.

"No."

"Axel…"

"Don't lecture me, I really don't want to hear it right now."

"It's been three years, man." My eyes darted back to him, the guilt slowly burning up with my rising temper.

"Don't."

"You've got to get over it."

"Tell that to everyone else in my life." My words weighed both of us down considerably and I found myself itching for another drink when I noticed I was almost finished with my current one. Riku dropped his gaze from mine before turning back to his desk.

"Just take your pills, Ax. Please." I sighed and stalked over to my closet, grabbing the bottle of Bacardi I'd wedged into the far corner before going back to my desk and opening the drawer that housed the all-too familiar translucent orange bottles. I unscrewed them, taking out the prescribed amount before throwing them back into the drawer and slamming the desk shut, noticing with a spiteful glee the twitch it caused in Riku's shoulders. I popped all three of the pills into my mouth and put the bottle to my lips, taking down a few gulps to force the round, colorful capsules into my stomach to get my neurons working properly.

"How was Sociology?" he asked after a long pause, keeping that false sense of normalcy that kept us both floating in my personal sea of angst.

"Uh," my mind began to invert on itself as the – almost three hours worth of – memories involving Roxas flitted across my mind. "I don't remember." His pen paused where he'd been writing on his notebook and he looked back at me, an eyebrow quirked.

"Were you drunk?"

"No, I was… distracted."

For some reason, I found myself not wanting to tell Riku about the boy that had captured my attention after just a few short words. I didn't want to let him know how he reminded me of hair like the sunbeams that filtered through our dorm window and the deep blue eyes that had drowned me in emotions I'd never find names for. I didn't want him to know that my heart had somehow made itself present behind my rib cage again the second he'd asked me if the seat beside me was available. I didn't want him to assume that I just wanted to get into Roxas's pants or be shocked that I might actually be addressing my internal turmoil for the first time in our two and half year friendship. Something about these feelings I'd let toss and turn eagerly in my stomach was almost embarrassing and even though it was Riku – the same guy that had once let me sob for hours about how much I hated myself – I didn't want him to know. I was afraid of the emotion itself and letting someone else even know about it made me feel like vomiting up the contents of my stomach. My eyes returned to my desk as I finished my drink and pushed back everything that could be associated with the past. "I don't know why, though."

* * *

><p><em>The morning light broke through the dinky hotel window, the beams pulling me away from the safe haven of sleep. I groaned a bit, rolling over to throw an arm around the body beside me, my mouth dry with the bitter taste of a hangover on my tongue. I jolted awake a bit more when my arm found air beside me, not a small body and blonde hair. I opened my eyes, scanning the room in mild interest before forcing myself to sit up. My eyes landed on the bedside table on the opposite end of the bed, a small tea cup sitting near the edge, steam still ghosting from inside. I scooted myself over, picking up the tea cup and smelling the soft, warm twinge of chamomile. I couldn't stop the amused grin from pulling at my lips as I took a sip. I picked up the note I'd noticed beneath the cup, reading the elegant, swirling handwriting with a tired sense of guilt.<em>

_Axel-  
>Went to get some air up on the roof. Come up when you wake up!<br>I love you._

* * *

><p><strong>Let me know what you think! This chapter was kind of hard to write because I'm not that good at dialogue. But bear with me!<br>And note: many of the banter that you will see in this fic between Axel and Riku will be based off of the banter between my friend, and former bunkmate, Sarah and I. **


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